A Mother of 3 Shares Her Fears for the Future as Tonight's DACA Deadline Approaches

Imagine the pain of being forced to uproot your family from the only home they’ve ever known — or the infinitely more painful heartbreak of being separated from your children. Today, October 5, marks the date set for beginning to phase out Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA), which protects people brought to the United States illegally as children. Congress has until March to propose legislation to protect DACA recipients and provide relief to the hundreds of thousands of families affected.

We’ve always thought about “Dreamers" as someone’s children — but what many don’t realize is that over 250,000 of them are also now someone’s parents. Their little ones are U.S. citizens by birth — free to stay in the country for life, if they choose. But if DACA is allowed to expire, that choice may require these U.S.-born children being separated from their Dreamer parents, who face deportation. As a mother and grandmother, my heart aches to imagine the uncertain future faced by these parents and their little ones.

I recently connected with one such “Dreamer mom,” Ariana (not her real name), who has generously shared her story and her perspective:

Editor's note: Ariana is a pseudonym; the photo above is a stock image and does not depict Ariana or any of her children.

Ariana's story

My name is Ariana. I'm a small business owner, a wife, a mother of 3 beautiful children and one of 800,000 people who benefited from the 2012 Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA).

I'm a DREAMer, a young adult who came to the United States as a child and knows no other home. I came with my parents to the United States when I was eight years old. I didn't even realize I was undocumented until I tried to get a driver's license when I was 16 and was asked for paperwork that I didn't have.

Before DACA, negotiating daily life was complicated in so many ways. I was unable to drive or work. The most devastating part was that despite working hard throughout high school, I couldn’t go to college because I was undocumented. I wanted to be a medical assistant; I wanted to be an active citizen of the only country I have ever known.

I am now married to a wonderful man who is working toward getting a green card, and I have DACA. DACA allowed me to drive, to work, to DREAM. It gave my husband and I the legal status and stability we needed to build a life, to have children and to start our small business.

All of that changed on September 5 of this year, when the current administration rescinded DACA.

With my legal status in danger of being taken away permanently, I have so many fears for my children, who too have known nothing other than this country that they love. My husband and I have had to make plans for what could happen to the kids if my status is taken away permanently. It's hard to find peace these days as I think of the pain they'll go through if my status is taken away and my children have to grow up without their mom. It is painful to think about even as I write this. Each moment in our lives feels heavier. Our regular activities take on a different weight as I think about how one of these days may be the last that I am able to spend time with them, the last time I am able to help them with their homework or make them a meal.

The bipartisan DREAM Act 2017 introduced by U.S. Senators Lindsey Graham (R-S.C.) and Dick Durbin (D-Ill.) give me hope that I could have a secure future with my kids, and our happy and healthy home could stay happy and healthy. The legislation would help many more families than mine, providing a path to citizenship for nearly 1 million DREAMers like me. The DREAM Act is in urgent need of implementation; millions of families simply cannot afford to wait as policymakers decide our fate.

This is my home. I went to school here. I was educated here, I learned about life and love, I fostered friendships and raised a family here. With DACA, I had plans to go to college; I wanted to serve as the most positive role model for my children I could be, and to show them that if I can do it, they can too.

My hope for other mothers nationwide is to see DREAMers like me, and know that all we want is to do the right thing for ourselves and for our children. The United States is my home, and the only difference between other mothers and me is a piece of paper. My son plays soccer, my middle daughter wants to be a writer, and I work hard every day to support them to make their dreams come true. My littlest one is home with me, and I treasure the little things I get to do with her, like teaching her the alphabet. Like every other American mom, I just want the best for my kids.

Without a strong legislative solution like the DREAM act, my children’s futures are filled with uncertainty. I don't know who will be there for my babies to encourage them and to believe in them like I do. I would do anything to protect my children, but as a DREAMer I don't know how to protect them from their greatest fear: losing me. It’s hard to know that my kids are fearful that any time I step outside the door, they could lose me, but I’m raising them to be strong, no matter what happens.

We need Congress to act, not just to protect me or parents like me, but to protect the homes of all our children and loved ones.